After I Married My (Now) Ex-Husband
The first thing I did after
I married my philosophy prof
was pitch his green polyester
suit that made the students giggle.
Plaid can be so distracting, existentially
speaking--all those roads converging
and diverging--, but he set me straight
in bed alright. After sex, he'd do
logical syllogisms to relax, his pillow
talk more pontification than purr.
He believed so many things--Plato's
Noble Lie, for one--, and unfurled
ideas around me like ferns, first
green coils, then fringed shrouds.
When I could not tell his truth from lies,
I learned to drink scotch and look
serious at jazz clubs, nodding
my chin down on the off-beats, or more
cool, just behind the slow, hip
groove of contemplation, mouthing
along with Body and Soul, Autumn Leaves,
Hello, Young Lovers, (wherever you are).
The first thing I did after
I married my philosophy prof
was pitch his green polyester
suit that made the students giggle.
Plaid can be so distracting, existentially
speaking--all those roads converging
and diverging--, but he set me straight
in bed alright. After sex, he'd do
logical syllogisms to relax, his pillow
talk more pontification than purr.
He believed so many things--Plato's
Noble Lie, for one--, and unfurled
ideas around me like ferns, first
green coils, then fringed shrouds.
When I could not tell his truth from lies,
I learned to drink scotch and look
serious at jazz clubs, nodding
my chin down on the off-beats, or more
cool, just behind the slow, hip
groove of contemplation, mouthing
along with Body and Soul, Autumn Leaves,
Hello, Young Lovers, (wherever you are).
Darla Biel teaches writing at South Dakota State University and enjoys artistic collaboration. Her chapbook, Feminine Images, is the textual base for An Evening with Dunn's Feminine Images, a multi-dimensional performance piece layering poetry, dance, music and visual art. She has contributed to two anthologies, including Peril and Promise: Essays on Community in South Dakota and Beyond, written libretti and song cycles, and published poems in print and online journals, including Rattle, Sugar House Review, South Dakota Review, and New Verse News.
John Hardesty is a 35 year professional driver, amateur photographer, wheeler dealer and part time petunia grower. He's been married to Audra for 14 years and lives in Rapid City, South Dakota. He also makes a pretty good sandwich.
